


of stags and darkness

by angelcult



Series: noncontober [6]
Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Breeding, Knotting, M/M, Rutting, minor blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/angelcult
Summary: Wirt grows curious about where it is that The Beast goes every so often, but he wishes he could have just discovered that on his own.
Relationships: The Beast/Wirt (Over the Garden Wall)
Series: noncontober [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947919
Kudos: 138





	of stags and darkness

**Author's Note:**

> warning: injury during sex (though not mentioned in graphic detail)

Wirt had grown used to Beast’s presence ages ago, he’s been in The Unknown for so long that he honestly can’t tell how much time has passed. Weeks? Months?  _ Years? _

He didn’t know how to keep track, not at first. However, being around The Beast constantly had its perks. 

Every so often, he would leave for about a week. 

At first, Wirt simply observed, counting how long he’d be gone by the rising and setting of the sun and he concluded that he was never gone more than seven days- never gone longer than a week. 

It was coming up on that time again, and Wirt was anxious and wondering, curious as to what could possibly pull The Beast away from his careful vigil over the lantern and lost souls. 

“Beast?” Wirt said softly as he collected falling branches of the edelwood trees from the ground, looking at the other over his shoulder.

Even shrouded in complete darkness, he could track The Beast, he’s grown used to his presence.

“Yes, Lanternkeeper?” A deep, echoing baritone responded, and Wirt paused, turning towards him. He’s grown taller, though he’s just as thin and wispy as he was before, maybe even more so.

“Where do you spirit away to every two fortnights?” He asked softly, mindful of the power imbalance between them. The Beast tilts his head, swaying between branches and such, like a ghost.

“You’re curious about my whereabouts?” He asked, and Wirt would call it smug if it were anyone else, but it was hard to associate The Beast with smugness, or most things.

“Yes.” He answered honestly, and he hummed, flitting back and forth until they were closer. The Beast was cold, and he towered over Wirt even with his newly gained height.

“How about I show you, it should be coming up soon enough.” Something about his tone.. Wirt shook it off, The Beast was always ominous to some degree, and he had mostly learned to accept it, but to never ignore it.

“Alright.”

Wirt’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, he hadn’t been expecting him to agree so readily, and he suddenly wasn’t so sure his prying was too good of an idea.

He felt worry burning at his stomach as he went about gathering up wood again, gnawing lightly at his lip. Maybe it wasn’t so bad? The Beast always did tend to mention traveling, perhaps it was something like that?

That just didn’t make sense, however, it was always like clockwork;  _ always.  _

Human sacrifices? God, Wirt hoped not because he’d just offered himself up to the creature on a silver platter.

It was nearly time, however, and now he was left to wait.

* * *

As the time drew near, Wirt found himself to be restless and not nearly as productive as he would typically have been without the distraction weighing in the back of his mind.

The Beast was lurking closer than normal, as well, usually while Wirt could  _ feel  _ him, he’d never been able to see him with much ease. Now; however, he was closer and could easily be seen in the corner of Wirt’s eye if he focused.

It wasn’t helping with his productivity dilemma.

Wirt awoke on the day off, and normally, The Beast would be long gone by this point, off wherever he went,  _ now,  _ however, he was  _ prowling. _

Wirt could feel it as he got ready for the day, those eyes on him, cold and calculating even with their hot, ember-like glow.

It sent shivers down his spine.

Had The Beast actually just been leaving to  _ hunt? _

  
  


Wirt exhaled heavily as he pulled his cloak on, grasping the lantern by the handle and clenching his fist down hard around the metal.

He wasn’t truly safe inside of the little cottage he lived in, but at least the lights protected him but as soon as he stepped outside, into the wood, he would be in Beast’s territory.

And then it would begin.

Inhaling sharply, Wirt grasped the lantern and left, leaving his door unlocked behind him as no one was foolish enough to go near the lantern bearer’s home and he stalked through the field.

Slowly, grass began to melt into trees, the path to dirt and rock, soon, completely surrounded by the wood.

The feeling of being watched was heavier now, constant and heavy on him, curling around him like an oppressive fist, choking him.

He wasn’t alone.

Wirt worked as he usually would have, though he felt as if he was getting nothing done, shaking and worried.

Was Beast going to kill him?

Foolish, but it wasn’t as if he actually  _ needed  _ Wirt to carry the lantern.

It was quiet, eerie and heavy.

Wirt turned, and he realized what was bothering him so much.

He couldn’t feel The Beast watching him.

As soon as the realization set in, his eyes widened and his heart started to beat double time in his chest, and in a fit of pure  _ preservation,  _ he started to run, holding the lantern’s handle tight in his grip.

Sharp turns and stumbles, his cloak flowed out behind him, red and navy flowing like wings of silk, feet pounding harshly against the dirt until there was suddenly weight on his back and he was tumbling.

He hit the dirt hard, scrambling to push himself up only to be pinned down once more, and then he heard him speak.

_ “Hello, little lantern bearer..” _

The Beast was heavy on top of him, pinning him down and leaning over him. His cloak was long and thick, he was practically invisible beneath The Beast as his clawed hands slid up Wirt’s sides, touching his delicate frame before he rested them against his hips and yanked his pants away, the only sounds being the tearing of fabric and Wirt’s pleas.

“Beast? Beast! Get off of me, get  _ off of-“ _

He’s cut off by a choke as he feels something hot and  _ wet  _ prodding between his legs, and he goes still with fear.

There’s growling in his ear, and then, he  _ gets it. _

He wasn’t going out to hunt or travel, god, he was going into a  _ rut. _

He wished he’d discovered that sooner, on his own terms and not from the hands gripping his sides so tightly that he was drawing blood or the growling in his ear as The Beast held him down.

The lantern had rolled a little ways away, and he was now stuck with the light flicking into his eyes and-

_ “Ow! Ah..”  _ Wirt sucked a sharp breath in through his teeth, it  _ hurt,  _ it was too much being forced into his admittedly (when compared to The Beast’s) small body. 

He could only feel the burning stretch and the pain of being forced open, his body struggling to adjust. Soon, Beast still and Wirt wasn’t even surprised to feel the wetness on his face, though that didn’t stop the raging embarrassment and anger at himself from flooding him as he struggled.

He stilled when he felt teeth at the back of his neck, not biting down, but it was a clear statement: “stop moving or I’ll hurt you.”

Even in the midst of a rut, Wirt didn’t doubt that he would follow up a threat, especially when his teeth were poised around it.

The pain was starting to settle some, into a dulled but fuller hurt, pressing inside of him uncomfortably as The Beast’s teeth left him in place a lick— a reward for his obedience and submission as he started up a pace that was too fast and rough.

Even with the slickness from the other’s cock, Wirt was well aware that not having been stretched would make itself known.

He huffed out whines and pants, moaning pathetically into the dirt when The Beast did something that felt particularly  _ good,  _ Wirt’s intermingled “nos” and “stops” were ignored by the creature.

Soon, Wirt found himself moaning through an orgasm, clawing into the dirt to get away from the relentless pressure but he was simply dragged back and his toes curled in his shoes when The Beast’s nails dragged down his sides, leaving bloody claw marks in their wake.

The Beast was making small noises now, not quite moans, and there was something else, something  _ swelling  _ and-

He’s a stag.

The Beast is a stag demon, partially at least, he’s part s-

“No! No, it won’t fit, it w-“ He pushed himself up on his elbows only to be forced back down into the forest floor, getting a mouth full of dirt that he promptly spit out for his troubles, continuing to yell and squirm.

“It won’t fit, god, it’s not going to-“ Panic was filling his chest again, and fear of injury in such a vulnerable way, but soon it proved to be a fruitless struggle as The Beast grinded against him to force his knot in.

There was a splitting pain and Wirt yelled, voice cracking and devolving into harsh sobbing as he felt a splitting pain and something warm trickling down between his legs, though not comparable to the feeling of The Beast cumming inside of him, too hot against his insides and filling in a way that put too much pressure in him.

He fell limp again and The Beast curled over him, he could feel his surprisingly “human” nose and lips against his neck, rubbing against him as if trying to soothe him.

Wirt couldn’t stop the tears, so he laid whimpering, feeling battered and broken beneath him.


End file.
